Classic Poem

Tho ' Destiny holds in her shadowy hands
Adventure and incident for us to meet,
We'll never forget, tho' we may not regret,
The naked brown babies of Bolivar Street.

The crash of the breakers, the lash of the gale,
The thrash of the rain and the sun's awful heat,
May pass from us all, but we'll ever recall
The naked brown babies of Bolivar Street.

The idiom local—that shuffle of speech
We learn ere our isthmus instruction's complete—
We'll lose it—we ought—yet we'll cling to the thought
Of the naked brown babies of Bolivar Street.

The pleasures and pains of the present and past
Our sojourn here making so sad or so sweet;
Tho' all fade away, thro' the memory will stray
The naked brown babies of Bolivar Street.

They wade in the puddles, they roll in the dust,
No weather can ever their pleasure defeat;
All days are the same! Life is only a game
To the naked brown babies of Bolivar Street.